Wrists

If the tables were turned, would you feel the way that I feel now?
Would you yearn to see and smell and hear and feel and taste the city lights
As they call to you from the endless darkness of the urban night

Would you be drawn to the highest point in your small neighbourhood
Just to see as much of the view as you possible could?
Would you do all this despite the dropping temperature?

I'd do all those things, if the tables were turned.
If there were two clouds of rising breath instead of one.
I'd do all those things if the snow hosted two sets of footprints,
Differing in size and stride.

Stamping on that wooden floor in the overturned ark,
I am often struck by a paradox. You are everything and nothing
My heart is so bursting with love that sometimes it's aimed at you
But sometimes it's like there isn't room.

This isn't doubt. I'm sitting here in the darkness, singing
Feeling like a daughter.
Feeling like the moon is reaching down to us on earth to say,
Sleep, now. But those who wish to keep me company, I will soothe you.
And I am soothed.

The price to pay is a melancholy ache, but it is tame.
There is still a smile on my lips as I think about raising my burdens to God.
I am laying on a moonlit field with my heart wide open like a blooming lotus.
Oh, if I had the paints and canvas, I would bring this to life.

I won't need patience when I understand. And I do understand - I just forget.
I forget that I am not alone.

I want to remember how to run wild through the flora.